Tom – as Charles says, the view from a poet’s house. Especially one who is exiled in paradise. With your indulgence, here’s one from the manuscript of that same name.

What Ink Can’t Capture

“Fog veils the river and mountains”the bridge crosses from one worldto another where sunlight brushesthe tips of redwoods and firsmist necklaces drift to far off hillspockets among the pines puff outlike paper lanterns illuminated from within by slanting light crude shadows mark the houseshalf hidden among the treesthis stillness is always there